


Xander's

by Spanderific (somanyhands)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bloodplay, General loveliness, M/M, but please don't let it put you off, it really is lovely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyhands/pseuds/Spanderific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like fire and ice.<br/>Light and dark.<br/>Heaven and hell. </p>
<p>The vampire and his boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Xander's

The knife blade glinted in the flickering light from candles carefully placed around the crypt.

As ornate silver traced along pale white skin, small beads of crimson popped at the surface and a soft groan filled the hollow room.

Xander closed his eyes in an effort to regain his composure. Seeing Spike lie there stretched out on the bed; cool, pale skin shaded with dancing candlelight shadow and decorated with the intricate red pattern was almost more than he could handle.

Xander looked into those piercing bright blue eyes, their rims threatening with gold. 

"I'm fine, pet." Spike reassured, answering the unasked question.

Xander nodded. He knew how this went. He grasped the knife firmly and tilted the blade, carefully tracing the tip along the inside of a wrist.

Paper-thin skin parted, and blood began to flow.  
Xander bent to kiss his lover. First softly on the lips - an almost chaste kiss - and then harder, more desperate. A hot, dirty kiss. A battle between mouths and tongues; moans and growls.

He felt the vampire's face shift, and he slid his tongue across a fang, drawing his own blood. The demon groaned as the boy's familiar taste joined with his own, and Xander knew it was time.

He slipped out of Spike's mouth and, checking on the wound on his wrist, he moved down the bed and settled between the vampire's legs. Vampire healing meant that the blood from the pattern on his chest had stopped flowing, developing into the soft silvery-purple outline of Xander's design.

Xander looked up at his lover, and he lifted the still-bleeding wrist to his mouth. 

He first pressed his lips against it, lovingly; tenderly, and then he began softly sliding his tongue along the cut; laving it gently; allowing their blood to mingle together.

As their essences combined, Spike felt the sensation hot and deep in his bones, and his demon roared.  
It was like fire and ice. Light and dark. Heaven and hell. The vampire and his boy.

Xander stroked a hand up the demon's arm; calming; soothing and, removing his mouth from the wrist, moved to position himself over his lover's hard cock. Framing the vampire's hips with his knees, he lowered himself carefully down, his still-slick hole opening willingly as Spike filled him completely.

As he began to ride, he looked down at his friend; his lover; his demon and watched as Spike forced the demon down, engaging deep brown eyes with blue once more.

Spike smiled at his boy. This boy who made him feel so important; special; real; alive.  
He reached down to grasp Xander's leaking cock. Precum coated the tip, and Spike could tell that his lover was already close to coming. He held it firmly, running his thumb across the slit, and felt Xander's rhythm stutter. 

A moment later, Xander's orgasm crashed through him, his come covering his lover's stomach. Spike groaned as the warmth spread across his cool skin and muscles tightened around his cock. He could feel his own climax approaching quickly and Xander, watching and knowing, leant down to snatch his vampire's mouth in a deep, bruising kiss.

It was all that was needed to push Spike over the edge, and he roared his way through his orgasm, filling his lover; his partner; his everything. 

As they lay together, basking in a hazy afterglow, Xander traced the intricate carving on his lover's torso with his fingertips, feeling every curve; every line; every letter. Just knowing what it said; what it meant.  
It would fade quickly of course and, in time, it would disappear completely, but there would always be more. 

More carving; more nights like this; more Spike and Xander.

He leant up on one elbow, admiring the elegant script of his handiwork -

**Author's Note:**

> Yeh, so this one isn't particularly well-written (if I kept editing until I was happy with it, it might never get published!) but the fic idea gnawed at me.
> 
> I don't write much Spander. I'm more of a reader when it comes to my beautiful boys. There is SO much wonderfully-written Spander out there that I really can't begin to compete. 
> 
> I usually write in the Sherlock fandom, but a 221b ficlet I recently wrote recently made me think that the idea behind the story could work really well with my boys.
> 
> So, anyways, I thought I'd give it a go.
> 
> Comments and kudos feed the muse, of course.


End file.
